


Christmas Is the Time to Tell People You Love Them

by thecolourclear (afinch)



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Bittersweet, Pre-Canon, an almost love triangle, not quite slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-21
Updated: 2006-12-21
Packaged: 2018-11-07 13:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11059524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afinch/pseuds/thecolourclear
Summary: Josh slipped a note under Sam's closed door, unaddressed, on funny blue paper with yellow and pink cats that must have come from Donna's apartment.Samuel, Samuel, Sam,You are beyond paranoid.In reality, Josh was terrified. Terrified that Sam would want more of Toby and Toby would want more of Sam and less of him.





	Christmas Is the Time to Tell People You Love Them

**Author's Note:**

> for tyg_nyw on LJ who wanted: a phone call and a meeting as well as: Threesome, love triangle...some kind of romantic relationship between at least two of them.

The first note came on the third day of June for Toby. In Sam's tall, neat, handwriting, it was addressed simply to Toby.

_There may have been entirely too much alcohol in the building last night. I wish to tell you that for everything that happened last night, I am sorry. Details of which are lost on me, but I do seem to recall a pile of clothes on the floor, your beard on my chest, and quite a bit of talk of lost love. I'm sorry again for whatever I did last night to cause us to end up like that. I ask only your forgiveness and your understanding. It will not happen again.  
-Sam_

The second note was scrawled from Josh and came not twenty minutes after Sam's.

_Toby,_

_You and Sam sharing love notes after last night?_

Toby's hand shook slightly at Josh's note. He remembered the night far better than Sam apparently did. He remembered the way Sam smelled, like baby powder mixed with expensive cologne; as he thought, Toby fingered Sam's tie, pressing it to his nose, trying to keep the scent as long as he could. 

Josh's note still bothered him – too much to enjoy the scent of Sam's innocence. Pulling himself out of his half-trance, he walked down to Josh and shut himself in the younger man's office. 

On the fifth day of June, Sam sent another note, this time addressed to Lyman. 

_Josh,_

_Toby visited you the other day. I don't know what happened, but both of you have been acting weird ever since. This doesn't have anything to do with the second does it? I know you left early, but I really can't remember how early. Donna mentioned something about you calling her drunk as a bat and high as a kite. I doubt you were high as a kite, drunk, that's a little too easy to believe. I digress, did you notice anything that night? What were you and Toby talking about? Am I being paranoid? You're always the paranoid one, let me know.  
-Sam_

Sam spent most of the night pacing in his office, wondering, waiting, hoping, praying, and pleading. All night long he glanced at the empty offices of Toby and Josh, and tried to write about anything. Not even the words to notes for both of them came. 

It was a surprise then, the next morning, when Josh slipped a note under Sam's closed door, unaddressed, on funny blue paper with yellow and pink cats that must have come from Donna's apartment. 

_Samuel, Samuel, Sam,_

_You are beyond paranoid._

In reality, Josh was terrified. Terrified that Sam would want more of Toby and Toby would want more of Sam and less of him.

Nothing happened for two weeks after that, Sam and Josh too scared to approach Toby and Toby too unsure of which man to approach first. It started with a note Josh had tried to throw in the trash, but Sam had rescued.

_T-_

_Look, I'm sorry. For everything. I'd tell you I love you, but Christmas is to tell people you love them. I don't know where to go from here. Leaving the ball in your court (sorry for the cliché)._

_Josh_

Perhaps it was a bad thing to ask to attend the meeting Josh and Toby were on their way to. Perhaps it was also a bad thing to have the note crumbled in a ball, growing wet with the sweat from his hand. It really was a bad idea to throw the wad at Josh during the meeting. Josh throwing it to Toby without reading it only further added to the level of how bad everything was. Toby only pocketed it, a small, knowing smirk on his face.

Toby was never one for writing notes; he saved the notes from Sam and Josh, tucking each new one to the growing pile in his inside jacket pocket. Two notes were passed after a quick coffee break.

_What is it?_

Quickly followed by, _Don't read it, Please._

Toby added both those to the wad, still smirking slightly, never quite meeting either man's eye.

Josh cracked first, calling Toby later that night in a panic – Sam wasn't in the office and neither was Toby. Where were they and what had the note said? Was it for him? Toby knew better than to laugh, he hung up gently and slowly turned back to the office to offer some reassurance. 

He kept Josh's tie as well, letting the scent flood every corner of his memory. When he was finished, he tried to keep the scent of Josh separate from the scent of Sam, but both ties in the same drawer eventually mixed into one. During that time, all three men tried to put everything behind, tried not to think about the past month and everything that had occurred.

Finding the ties was an accident, something unexpected in an otherwise normal day, with Toby pulling out a file and the ties sticking to the bottom. When both men reached for their ties, Toby stopped them, clutching them to his chest tightly, closing his eyes as the mingled scents hit him. Both men left quietly, both glancing back at the slightly broken man they had left behind. 

The final note came the next morning, taped to Toby's door, addressed to 'The Idiot Boys'.

_If Christmas is indeed the time to tell one that you love them, July is the time to break hearts and hope that before Christmas they are mended. It is the time to tell people no, that love will not flourish, that some things are better left unsaid. There is no time for 'what ifs' and 'what could have been', there is only time to look forward, to hold our heads high and serve the American people._

The ties remained in the drawer and from time to time, Toby would pull them out, smell them and think about all the what ifs and what could have been. Then carefully, he would place them back in the drawer, lock it, and pretend that neither man still pulled on his heartstrings.


End file.
